


Truce

by illyriantremors



Series: ACOMAF Rhys POV Standalone Chapters [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Rhys POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:46:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7661860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyriantremors/pseuds/illyriantremors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taken from Chapter 29 of ACOMAF. This is Rhys' POV as Feyre realizes Rhys sent him the music in her cell and then a subsequent flashback to that chapter in ACOTAR.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truce

**Author's Note:**

> Update as of 4/19/17: This fic has been updated! I have gone back to the beginning of ACOMAF and started the entire book from Rhys's POV. You can find this specific chapter new and updated _[HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10515438/chapters/23208276)_. :)

Feyre seemed almost halfway normal. I was utterly delighted when she had asked me to show her Velaris at night, not just to see it, but to participate in the city’s delights.

I was happy to have had the rest of the Inner Circle along. Their endless chatter and bickering let me study Feyre silently all through dinner while still enjoying the atmosphere. Feyre remained quiet for the most part, but every now and then she would chime in and I could have sworn she almost smiled a time or two. Almost.

But then we were alone again, Mor and her boys walking up the city hills to find a dance to jump in to, Amren skulking off with her bundle of blood to feast upon. And there was Feyre. Standing impossibly close to me on a bridge overlooking the Rainbow while the city lights of my Court’s most beautiful treasure dazzled and smiled for her.

It should have been a delight, possibly even romantic if it had been anyone but the pair of us. I could see the interest in Feyre’s eyes as she watched the city and hounded me with endless questions, but there was a hollowness behind those eyes that still had to fight to be filled with something other than her grief even when so much was lain out before her for the taking.

Worry ate at me as we walked in silence across the bridge to make for our apartment. Not just this morning, she’d stood in the woods outside her sisters’ chateau and told me Velaris wasn’t her home. Would tonight change that for her in any way?

My thoughts bubbled and spat so furiously I almost didn’t realize Feyre had slowed her pace. When I turned around to face her, she’d gone utterly still, her gaze fixed on a small group of musicians playing a lilting melody across the street from us.

My heart stopped.

I recognized the music. Feyre did too. I’d sent it to her to keep her alive during the trials when she seemed on the verge of collapse.

Images of that night flooded back to me. I had to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from shaking as I remembered. I couldn’t go to her. Couldn’t risk seeing her. I knew I’d have one last chance to see her alone and I wouldn’t waste it until it became necessary.

But I knew she was rotting away in that cell, dying. I could feel it pulsing through the bond. All her fears were crashing in on her to the point of suffocation. It had hardly felt like force offering her the goblet of wine to drink from night after night, her hands had so greedily fought for it after the second trial. For the first time, I began to doubt that I was doing the right thing keeping her drunk when her mind was full to bursting with grief anyway.

I was alone in my room about to go insane from my inability to save her. I didn’t know what to do, so I simply did. I latched on to the first sensory memory I could retrieve that wouldn’t cause too much risk and I hurled it at Feyre. Down the vents into her cell, across the bond between our broken hands, came music.

The melody was gripping, haunting, but also hopeful. It was the sound of hard-fought victory, of love and all the things that make life beautiful. It was the sound of home. My home.

Velaris.

It quaked and rose, rising and breaking in great, sweeping swells that were meant to move and devour the soul.

I could practically feel Feyre’s heart as the blood pried her center apart and restitched it until the emotions pumped in and out of those valves with every beat. I could taste the salt as it stung her lips from crying. I could feel the warmth in her skin as she clung to feel of her body.

Tears were all I had left to give, so I let them fall urging her on, hoping she would find something in the melody to inspire her, whether it was her sisters, Tamlin, Lucien, her art - anything to make her want to live. To prove that this wasn’t costing her more unnecessary grief than it did to soothe her soul.

“You.” Feyre breathed the word out of her, her quiet, shocked voice dragging me out of the memory I would not soon forget. She was still staring at the musicians as their chorus played on. “You sent the music into my cell. Why?”

I stood next to her, not daring to see if her face was hurt, if I’d failed her again. “Because you were breaking,” I said in a shaky voice. “And I couldn’t find another way to save you.”

“I saw the Night Court,” she said.

Now that took me by surprise, enough that I dared look at her. And Cauldron’s mercy, she looked somewhat restful. “I didn’t send those images to you.”

“Thank you. For everything - for what you did. Then…” my stomach clenched in waiting, “…and now.”

And suddenly I could breathe again.

“Even after the Weaver? After this morning with my trap for the Attor?”

A little huff of annoyance escaped Feyre as her nostrils flared. “You ruin everything,” she said, but I could have sworn she meant the opposite. It thrilled me. I grabbed her, scooping her up into my arms, cradling her tired body close as we shot into the sky, and was rewarded when she leaned her head willingly against my chest, something like peace thrumming between us.

xx


End file.
